Disclaimer: I own nothing! Not clear enough? Basically all names and places do not belong to me and I thus have no copyright laws over them whatsoever. shrugs
Author's Notes: Yes, I know I haven't updated for the longest time. Someone shoot an Unforgivable at me. Frankly, I stand before the jury pleading guilty. I could say that I have had lots of projects, but all except one have been over for about a month now. I have exams coming up soon, but since when did I care? I spent too much time reading other fanfics I suppose, but there's always a bright side to this…
You see, after putting much thought into this whole thing, I've diagnosed my story as being rather disorganised. So, for the next two chapters, I'm going for simplicity, to balance all the mess in the first 6 chapters. I've also changed the framework for my story. I originally intended this to be HPCC, but then it became HPGW, but I've reverted back to HPCC. Well, kind of, you'll see. Yeah, I'm rather fickle. shrugs
I've also decided to shorten my story, like, majorly. I believe I mentioned that this was going to be an epic trilogy, each story about 100 000+ words long. Despite all the great scenes I've played in my head, it dawned upon me that I could not possibly fit all those into a proper, non-repetitive plot sequence, and that it would take me more than a year to complete, seeing how lazy I am.
So, sorry to disappoint, this may end up as only two stories. Shan't disclose too many particulars, but be assured that it will end up as HPCC (coz there seriously aren't enough out there).
Ok, by now you're probably sick of my Notes. Just thought I'd acknowledge that my timeline is extremely screwed. According to everyone, the trip to Diagon Alley is usually just before the return journey to Hogwarts, but forgive this inexperienced writer for this horrible error. I suppose it works all the same, doesn't affect set-up too much and it's in Hogwarts where the real action starts, which is why I'll now try skipping through the less important bits. This chapter is quite action-less, but I tried to add humour and some other factors into it. See, I have not mastered the art of constant adventure, so please contend with Brooding, the shortest chapter yet. :)
Have a fun ride!
-:) Ohnuu (:-
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CHAPTER SIX: BROODING
Summer went by smoothly, albeit less heart-warming than before. Two days before Harry's birthday, and only one attack had occurred, in a dreary town near Manchester, far better news than the Order had dared hope.
Much to the distress of his close friends, Harry became troublingly introverted. He came down for meals, responded when talked to, and joined in for Quidditch, but lost was the playful joy he had always shown at the Burrow.
"I'm telling you, Ron, it's not healthy! He's always so alive over here! Now it's as if…as if…oh I don't know! He's not the same!" Hermione pleaded to the youngest Weasley son, sitting together on the couch in the otherwise empty living room.
"Shh…I known, Mione, but you can't expect him to just get over his godfather's death like that. I know that if any of my brothers or Ginny died in this war, I'd be downright moody. Just give him time, he'll come around. He always does." Ron reassured the misty-eyed girl beside him.
Hermione's lips pursed to form a thin line, before letting out a short sigh.
"I suppose…but I hate to see him in that state." She pressed, eyes focused on her lap. "He always has to take his burden alone. He faced Quirrell alone. He killed the basilisk alone. He faced V-V-Voldemort alone."
"And he made it out every time." Ron comforted, patting her back. "Don't worry, Hermione, we'll be there if he needs us."
Hermione nodded and smiled weakly, before fully relaxing on the couch, taking a book seemingly from her jacket, and began to read. Ron, used to her bookworm-ish habits, decided to just appreciate the feel of summer in the comfort of the Burrow.
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Harry was worried.
As pleasant as it was that he had settled and prioritised himself internally, he knew he had to come out of the comfort of summer eventually and face the darkest wizard since Grindelwald, perhaps even more.
In the quiet room in the Burrow where Harry slept, the curtains drawn against the oppressive noonday heat, the moody child stared listlessly at the ceiling, magically decorated so that brooms, quaffles and bludgers flew aimlessly around the azure blue landscape.
But his jade eyes were reserved only for the golden speck that fluttered haphazardly around.
Yet internal turbulence drove the outside world to a mere buzz, a mental blanket shielding him from the frivolities of life and enclosing himself within his own thoughts and musings, which tended to be centred around the same, vindictive, half-a-century old dark wizard.
Not that the present one was the only one to fit the description.
Yes…Dumbledore had said something about Grindelwald…some advice…
Of course! Why hadn't he thought about it earlier! Despite his misgivings regarding Dumbledore's secrecy and decision-making, surely he would know something about defeating a dark wizard!
The gears in the soon-to-be sixteen-year old's head spun relentlessly. Why hadn't he thought of it before?
"Probably because I hadn't realised that I would have to duel old Voldy…and when I did, I was rather busy mourning the death of my godfather." Harry reflected bitterly.
It was about time Dumbledore and he had a good talk. If Dumbledore could survive the dark uprising and still come out best for wear, not to mention being the key player in Voldemort's rise, there was no reason why he, Harry James Potter, should not seek the aged wizard for experience.
With finality, Harry decided that he would seek the Hogwarts Headmaster as soon as possible, perhaps even receive a History lesson he'd actually listen to, and begin his preparation for the battle of his life and for the world.
The Battle Within.
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Contentedly perched atop her Cleansweep, Ginny flew lazily around the makeshift Quidditch Pitch in the Burrow, alone.
Enjoying the late afternoon breeze, she let her hair down; despite the mess it created afterwards. Right now, all she wanted was her mane of fiery hair to flow freely as she glided around the Burrow, countless thoughts spinning like her hair behind those gleeful chocolate eyes.
As was expected, her thoughts were helplessly chained to the topic of the green-eyed boy, no, young man, who was living under the same roof as her, ate meals with her, played Quidditch with her and talked with her. This time, though, it was not the wishful thinking of a ten-year old girl wildly infatuated, but the feeling of growing attachment for the person who had recently had his birthday celebrated at her own house.
If she could be quite honest with herself, she had helped to plan quite a great deal of the party. Of course, her mum had helped to bake the cake, and Hermione was more than eager to get all the logistics meted, but it was her, Ginerva Molly Weasley, who had planned the surprise which ultimately brought the long-awaited smile to the face of her childhood crush.
Most of Harry's close friends and some Order members had gathered gradually after lunch – Remus, Tonks, the Weasley clan, Neville, Seamus, Professor McGonagall, Kingsley Shacklebolt, etc. They had effortlessly concealed themselves in the living room, an easy task seeing how Harry kept to his routine of staying in his room. By about five o'clock, Ron and Hermione eventually pulled a reluctant Harry out of his room and into the swarm of people warmly congratulating him.
Then, the moment that brought a smile to Ginny's face: the kiss…
Flashback…
"Happy Birthday Harry." Ginny said in front of Harry, donning a maroon knee-length dress with two straps across her shoulders, several minutes after the initial surprise had worn off. Harry flashed a smile towards her.
"Ginny! You helped plan this too? This is great! Really, thanks!" Harry exhorted enthusiastically, causing the red-head's cheeks to tint into a colour not too far off from her hair.
To her surprise, though, Harry gave her a firm hug after a moment's hesitation. After what seemed like an eternity of bliss to the gleeful girl, the contact stopped and they looked at each other with nervous eyes.
Suddenly, a jolt seemed to run through Ginny's body and she once again put her arms around the birthday boy and planted a kiss on his cheek that anything but chaste.
It was after that split-second of fearless determination to show her love for the teenage wizard when blood rushed to her face at astronomical speed. Stuttering a reply, she walked purposefully out of the house with a drink of iced tea, not noticing the rows of pearly white teeth on her brothers' faces.
End Flashback…
Back on her broom outside the Burrow, Ginny gave another secretive smile. While most would consider her feelings towards The-Boy-Who-Lived as obvious as they come, she knew that love-deprived Harry would take twice as long as the average boy to puzzle it out.
"Almost as bad as Ron," she thought to herself while merrily doing a loop.
"Gin-Gin, come down from there and help me with the dishes!" Molly Weasley hollered from the kitchen.
Descending quickly, she sneaked a glance at the clock and found that she had been flying for more than an hour.
"An hour spent thinking about Harry…I think that an hour well spent." She mused.
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It was two hours after lunch and Harry was staring blankly at the stained ceiling of the bedroom, lost in thoughts. Ron and Hermione were in the room, making an attempt at light conversation, taking advantage of the happy mood Harry was in after his birthday party five days ago. Not to much avail.
"Hey Harry, you have any idea why Ginny kissed you at your party?" Ron smirked in an unnaturally light voice. "I mean, didn't she say she's dating Dean?"
Harry gave an uncommitted sound, not concerned about the issue. Sure, Ginny had pecked him on the cheek, but wasn't that what all brothers and sisters did? Like Ginny as he did, being tasked to kill a dark wizard was no condition to get a girlfriend.
The sound of the door closing softly yet hurriedly and hushed muttering beyond it tore the curtain of Harry's mind away, and like bright sunlight greets the awaken, the reality of his room struck him.
Glancing at the calendar, it dawned upon Harry that there was slightly less than a month before he once again returned to Hogwarts. What awaited him there…well; only time will tell. Shaking himself once more, Harry tried to let a smile crack his hard exterior of a face, yet the wrinkles persisted, and the muscles refused to allow a grin to seem natural.
Abandoning his messy hair altogether, Harry washed his pale, ashen face.
"Everyone's really trying their best to cheer me up." The depressed boy reflected even as those lifeless emerald orbs surveyed his deadened appearance. Cheeks gaunt, hair uncut, eyebags dark, eyes tinted with red, lips cracked with dryness. Yep, just about how a prisoner or drug addict would look like.
Except he wasn't a prisoner in Azkaban, or a trafficker of cocaine.
He was a prisoner of destiny, and the fate to either destroy or be destroyed.
He was an addict of grief, of experiencing loss after loss, yet never really understanding how to love.
Ultimately deciding that a shower was the best remedy for physical affliction, Harry spent a quick five minutes under the hot water, before grabbing one of Ron's Chudley Cannons shirts and a pair of jeans.
"They don't know about the Prophecy, anyway." Harry voiced mentally. "So I can't blame them for thinking I'm still mourning Sirius."
Sure, Sirius was a great, albeit only, father figure in his life, for the two brief years they had truly known each other. Yet Harry was not one to mourn much. Seeing Cedric die was painful, but numbed by the presence of Voldemort, and the fact that the Hufflepuff and he were not very close. Losing Sirius was heart-wrenching, for the death was partly due to his folly. But grief had something different in mind for Harry. Meeting only hate the moment he reached the Dursley's, child-abused Harry took the bestial nature of the first caveman.
Injury demands revenge.
When he got down the stairs he saw the Weasley family, with the exception of Bill, Charlie and Mr Weasley, sitting at the dining table. He intentionally let his foot fall loudly, to let them know of his presence. Immediately, talk at the table stopped and he was met by pure silence under the gaze of brown and blue eyes.
"Talking about me." Harry deduced immediately. Perhaps he should have been angry, but anger was wasted on people who genuinely cared about you. "No, I reserve hate for Voldemort, and whoever seeks to impede my road to vengeance."
Yes, Voldemort first. Everything else, whether Dumbledore, Sirius, Ginny, Cho…they could come afterwards. Nothing could distract him…
"Anyone up for a game of Quidditch?"
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"Lucius!"
"Yes, Dark Lord?"
"Is your son ready to serve?"
"Yes, Dark Lord, just as you asked me to. He is relentlessly determined, cunning, loyal, and detests Potter and Dumbledore to the core."
"Very well, Lucius, but your words bear little meaning. I await your son's initiation, which will be on the next full moon. Inform him that service to the Dark Lord is a life-long commitment, but the rewards are great. Inform him that young as he is, his usefulness will not be underrated. Inform him that he is either with us, or with Potter."
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The rest of the summer passed smoothly. Fewer attacks by Death Eaters occurred, and the Ministry tried to cover the less serious ones with a variety of excuses, the favourite being "Magical Accidents".
It was also during this time that the Order got far busier. Thus Harry's meeting with Dumbledore had to be postponed till September, much to Harry's displeasure. Nonetheless, incidents were few, apart from Ginny's birthday, Ron being hospitalised for a day thanks to Fred and George, Molly Weasley trying out new dishes, and so on.
All in all, a good summer for Hermione Granger, despite the events which preceded it. As far as anyone could tell, Voldemort's attacks were mainly focused on Muggles around the countryside, and were being sufficiently repelled by the Ministry which now fully acknowledged the truth behind Harry's claims at the end of their fourth year. Harry too was showing sporadic signs of contentment and release from the mental prison he was famed for.
Best of all, Ron and she were unofficially a couple. Though there was no real announcement, it was understood that they were more than friends by everyone in the Burrow. Harry accepted it warmly. Mr and Mrs Weasley were as glad as parents could be. Her own parents were happy of the news, often hearing from their daughter how good-natured this "Ronald Weasley" was. Behind all the teasing, the rest of the Weasley clan seemed to be truly delighted that their "Ickle Ronniekins" had finally grown up.
Which left only one problem unsolved: Getting Harry and Ginny together.
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Severus Snape was pleased. With this latest discovery, the Dark Lord was…unstoppable. Of course, Dumbledore posed a slight problem, but the old fool could be dealt with. The old, trusting, gullible, fool.
Prior to this day, the Potions Master had chosen to secretly sit on the fence, allowing himself to choose a side at the last possible moment while seeming to be on either one all the way. It wasn't easy, but had paid off.
Now, though, he was definitely siding with Lord Voldemort.
The Dark Lord had explored possibilities which had eluded the conservative, narrow-minded Order of the Phoenix. Using each of his Death Eater's abilities and advantages to his benefit like a chess master, there was little doubt in Snape's mind that Voldemort's plan was flawless.
Now he just had to play his part…
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Author's Notes: Nothing much to say, just ask that you please review. I want to see what I can work on, whether it's characterisation, tempo, dialogue, etc. Chapter 7 is already under progress but I have exams in slightly more than a week, so I'll have quite a bit of homework, so don't expect quick updates. You see, writing ain't my occupation, and I'm in a highly busy country, in a highly busy school, so please don't blame me if updates are even longer than once a week, or even a month between. Believe me, I don't like it either, but I don't fancy the chances of petitioning against the world.